[ Derek quickly shakes his head, and he realizes that looks like a solid, point-blank rejection, but that's not what he means. Just - next week is far, and as angry as Derek might be right now, he's not going to let someone as self-destructive and prone to anxiety as Tate dwell over this and worry about what their relationship is going to be like for an entire fucking week. ]

Tomorrow. If you want.

[ Derek starts getting to his feet, and his hands are trembling a little, so he balls them into fists and pulls down the sleeves of his jacket, covering his wrists and his hands up to his knuckles. This was a lot of emotion for one fucking day. ]

Just - not tonight. Tomorrow afternoon, at the earliest. It's the full moon. I need...

[ To fuck Stiles within an inch of his life to try and work out his energy and calm the fuck down, honestly. To collapse in the woods and howl at the moon, or some shit. ]

I just need a day.